


I found ...

by Oswald_Nygmobblepot



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Contains themes of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-29 23:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8510227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oswald_Nygmobblepot/pseuds/Oswald_Nygmobblepot
Summary: Written after episode 8 of season 3 *spoiler* after Isabella was hit by the train. Edward returns home after finding out of Isabella's death.





	

(A/N -- I do want to say before I post this that I am a firm believer that Isabella survived the train ... This is an AU "What if" scenario, because I'm refusing to believe she's actually dead.)

  
_‘I found love where it wasn’t supposed to be … Right in front of me … Talk some sense to me.”_

_\---_

The door clicked shut behind Edward as he came into the mansion, the sound both dull and far too loud in his ears, almost like a gavel falling on a death sentence. He walked through the hall and was dimly aware of Oswald approaching and wished the smaller man would leave him alone.

“Edward!” He said hugging him tightly, Edward’s arms hung loosely at his sides and he felt like he was being consumed, his body was numb, his eyes dead. “I heard what happened …” He said looking up at Edward, surprised that his eyes were dry … blank … but dry. “I’m so sorry.” Oswald said, raising his hand to his cheek.

Edward pulled away from him before he could touch him.

“I’m sorry.” Edward said tiredly. “I’m just …. Tired.” He said pulling away from him.

“Of course … It’s late.” Oswald said, looking over him. “Just … If you need me, I’m here. You know I’d do anything for you, Edward.” He said mimicking the words Edward had said to him. “I will see you at breakfast.” He watched Ed, who was unable to even force a smile, as he moved up the stairs. A triumphant smirk tugged at Oswald’s lips as he moved back into the sitting room. Ed would be his … He poured himself a brandy, sitting in his father’s old chair. It was simple really. She’d put up a fight, but he’d won … He would comfort Ed … Be there for him when he needed it … and when Ed was ready, he would be-

Oswald jumped at the sudden noise that echoed through the house, and for a brief second he thought a car backfired … But he knew that sound all too well. He jumped up, his glass falling to the floor, brandy and glass shattering all over the carpet as he made his way towards the stairs. He hobbled up as quickly as he could, gripping the banister as he went.

“ED!” He yelled, “ED!” He ran into his room and found it empty and for a moment he thought maybe he was somewhere else and was about to turn to leave when a flash of silver caught his eye.

“Ed?” He asked, stepping into the room, praying he was wrong. That the gun on the floor was just dropped … He slowly stepped around the bed and fell to the floor, not even noticing the pain in his leg, his chest hurting far more than it ever could.

“No …. No no no no no.” He didn’t want this. He was supposed to let him comfort him, he was supposed to be with him … Not laying on the floor, blood pooling on the carpet. Oswald shook his head, tears streaking his eyes as he howled in pain before he moved to lay on the floor next to him, his hands clutching him, unwilling to let him go. He loved him so much … Would do anything for him … And had to push back the thought that he had noticed ….

Edward hadn’t even had the thought to leave him a note.


End file.
